Chapter 1

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The bluish-green water around her rose and formed giant waves which surrounded her from all sides. Melody tried to swim away, but the waves engulfed her. A constantly-moving bubble of water broke from the ocean and began to rise a foot into the air, trapping Melody inside. She screamed, thrashing her tiny body against the sides of the bubble. I ran knee-deep into the ocean, reached towards the bubble and forced my hand through the wall of water. Melody grabbed it and I started pulling, trying to free herself. I cried for help, but the beach was deserted. As the bubble rose a few inches higher, I felt my hand slipping away from hers. I pulled harder, planting my right foot into the sand. A wave came crashing down knocking me to the seafloor. I grabbed ahold of a jagged rock for leverage and pushed myself to the surface. The bubble was now floating three feet overhead. I rushed back to the shore and grabbed the faded red and white umbrella I had been relaxing under just moments before. I yanked it out of the sand and closed it. I charged back into the ocean and forced the point of the umbrella through the blob-like bubble. It felt like a pin going through a balloon. Melody pulled the umbrella towards her, stabbing it through the opposite side of the bubble. The bubble popped, all of its matter seeming to dissolve instantly into the cloudless sky, and Melody fell to the ocean. I helped my sister to her feet and together we fled to the sand.

We kept running until we reached our beach-side apartment.

"I think you can let go of my hand now," Melody announced, her hand squirming in mine.

"Right, sorry." I let it go and checked my phone. Eleven missed calls. I hoped that this time my aunt would just let it go, but that didn't happen.

"WHERE THE HECK WERE YOU?!" she yelled from the kitchen as I quietly opened the front door.

"Auntie! The water! I-it took Melody... I-"

Suddenly my aunt was in front of us, inspecting our sand-covered bodies for injuries. Satisfied, she began to breathe in and out, a method her therapist had taught her. Melody and I remained rooted in the hallway, unsure if we should move.

"Carter, have you been taking your medication?" my aunt asked, her voice surprisingly somewhat calm. A few years back, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia because I had, what my doctor referred to as, "An inability to separate fantasy from reality". He chalked it up to genetics and the trauma I had from losing my mom at such a young age. This got me medication and weekly trips to the psychiatrist.

The thing is, I remembered taking my medication that morning. Or could that have been a hallucination too?

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⏰ Last updated: Jul 01, 2019 ⏰

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